JJ

FADE IN:

INT. MARLOW’S HOUSE - KITCHEN - EARLY MORNING - DAY 1

Soft dawn light filters through gauzy curtains, casting long shadows across a cluttered counter.

The room feels too still, like it's holding its breath.

MARLOW, 40s, pale and hollow-eyed, moves with mechanical precision—almost underwater.

She fills a kettle, sets it on the stove. It whistles faintly. She pours hot water into a mug, dips a tea bag. No rush.

She carries the mug to the table... where TWO IDENTICAL MUGS already sit, perfectly steeped.

She freezes, blinks at them. Confusion flickers, but no panic. Just numb acceptance. She sets the third mug down neatly.

Marlow pulls out her phone, hits record on the voice memo app. Her voice is flat, detached—like a journal entry dictated to an empty room.

MARLOW

(voice memo)

Day 47. The routine holds me together. I made     tea... again. I think. I'm fine.

She stops the recording, pockets the phone. Her eyes dart to a PHOTO on the shelf—her and JONAH (fiancé), smiling.

She turns away quickly.

A faint CREAK from the hallway. She ignores it.

CUT TO:

INT. MARLOW’S HOUSE - HALLWAY/CLOSET - MORNING - DAY 1

Marlow carries the photo frame, wrapped in cloth, face-down. She stops at a dusty closet door, opens it.

Slides the frame inside, turns it to the wall, covers it with a pillow. Shuts the door. Locks it with a CLICK.